


Special Seminar on Interventional Cardiology

by growntiredofthisbody



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of Troy/Britta, Porn with some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growntiredofthisbody/pseuds/growntiredofthisbody
Summary: “Don’t we already know how we got here?” Troy smiles up at him, but not in the polite way of someone barely tolerating his framing devices. He practically radiates affection. “I told you I’ve been in love with you this whole time, and we started making out. Which was awesome, by the way, and I was thinking maybe we could keep doing that?”-Troy and Abed finally get what they want.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 18
Kudos: 102





	Special Seminar on Interventional Cardiology

**Author's Note:**

  * For [truestrepairman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/truestrepairman/gifts).



> ok the trobed server is 100% responsible for this one. especially ari, whose idea this was in the first place (THANK YOU for letting me write it)

They’re not supposed to be doing this.

Abed made that rule a long time ago, when Troy was still wearing a letterman jacket and acting like his entire high school would materialise to smash all his football trophies if he did anything remotely fun. The reason he gave (preserving the fabric of the group) was an important one, but it was just as important to stop getting emotionally invested in people who would be fascinated by him for a few weeks and then leave.

Troy didn’t leave, and after a few years, Abed started to forget why he had ever expected it to happen.

These past few weeks have helped him remember. If he were to make it a montage, he’d set it up like this: Troy and Britta hugging after seeing the Greendale commercial. Troy bailing on the Dreamatorium to go to lunch with Britta. That one time he walked in on them holding hands in the study room, and they let go as soon as they saw him, as if he had caught them doing something scandalous. Maybe throw in a few other miscellaneous smiles and meaningful looks, just to tie it all together. As for the music…

“Abed,” Troy interrupts at the perfect time, voice strained enough to make Abed wonder if he’s suppressing a whine. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just establishing how we got here.” _Here_ is the bunk bed in their apartment, Troy laid out underneath him with expectant eyes and tastefully dishevelled clothing. As for _how,_ that starts with Abed opening the door and finding Troy sitting there, home early from his date to confess something…

“Don’t we already know how we got here?” Troy smiles up at him, but not in the polite way of someone barely tolerating his framing devices. He practically radiates affection. “I told you I’ve been in love with you this whole time, and we started making out. Which was awesome, by the way, and I was thinking maybe we could keep doing that?” He tugs at the back of Abed’s hoodie. He can’t remove it from this angle, but it’s the gesture that counts.

“We could,” Abed agrees, admiring Troy’s ability to summarise the situation so briefly. It’s tempting to let the exposition carry on for another moment, linger on the details of soft voices sharing a secret or even softer lips tracing his collarbone. But that can wait. “Or we could do something else.”

“Oh. Yeah, if you want.” He gives Abed a look of slight disappointment. “What did you want to do?”

Abed lifts himself up from Troy, just enough for Troy to start moving too. Then he pushes him back down onto the bed, grasping handfuls of his shirt. “I want to fuck you until you don’t even _remember_ being with anyone else.” A possessive character fits perfectly with this scenario, he thinks.

“The fabric of the group’s gonna be okay?” As much as Troy tries to sound concerned, even Abed can easily tell that it’s far from genuine. What _does_ sound real is the significantly higher pitch he speaks in. “We won’t Jeff-and-Britta it?”

“Let me worry about that,” Abed reassures him. “This is what matters. You and me, now.” He dips down and kisses Troy, showing him _exactly_ what matters. The muffled-but-gratified moan he hears in response tells him the message’s been received.

They kiss, take a quick breath of air, then kiss again- it’s an easy pattern to follow, one that keeps the already-shaky structures of Abed’s thoughts from collapsing entirely. It also gives Troy the opportunity to stop in between kisses and tell him that this is _amazing,_ that he’s wanted this for years, and that his brain is hurting a little from trying to figure out just how Abed got so good at this.

That’s a lot to respond to at once. Instead, he kisses Troy’s neck, and he’s rewarded with a beautiful gasp that requires no answer- except to keep going, and maybe run the sharper points of his teeth down the gentle curve of his throat. He saw how interested Troy was in Annie’s vampire story. He’s always noticing things that no one else does, anywhere really, but in Troy most of all.

Troy’s entire body trembles, drawing Abed’s attention to a few places he’s apparently been neglecting. He’d like to fix that, but there’s so many clothes in the way… Luckily, Troy’s _very_ sympathetic when he explains this, and even helps out by getting rid of some of them- surprisingly quickly, too.

Abed responds by shedding his own clothing in record time. Before either of them really know it, there’s nothing left to separate them.

He’s hovering over Troy, who stares up at him with the thinnest veneer of patience that can possibly restrain their shared desire. It only makes sense to continue where he left off- kissing at Troy’s neck, with the occasional little bite when he finds a sensitive enough spot to make him cry out.

With no shirt to limit where he can go, he takes the opportunity to move around, trailing kisses down and across Troy’s chest. When his lips brush one of Troy’s nipples, and he hears a sharp intake of breath in response, it occurs to him that they might owe Jeff an apology for making fun of the whole nipple play thing.

He doesn’t dwell on it for long. After all, if he does, who else is going to run their hands down Troy’s front and sides, admiring the duality of soft skin and hard muscles? Who else will lavish kisses over his stomach, teasing him by appearing to drop below his waist before moving back up? Who else’s hair will Troy eventually slide his hands into when that teasing gets to be too much, gently but firmly guiding him towards the real prize?

It’s been long enough, and Abed is starting to get a little impatient himself. He lets Troy push his head down, and opens his mouth just enough to take in the tip of Troy’s dick. Somewhere above him, he hears soft, ragged sighs that get a lot louder whenever he flicks his tongue across the head. Nice. What other noises can he get Troy to make?

Sliding his mouth down a bit further gets him what he wants- louder, shallower breaths, that Abed eventually understands to be attempts at words. He eases up, letting Troy speak.

“Fucking amazing,” is the first thing he gets out, and it really must be if it’s getting him to swear like that. “Abed, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna-”

“Doing this?” Abed asks, and the rest of Troy’s sentence dissolves into something too loud to be a whine and too quiet to be a scream.

He maintains just enough composure to nod, as Abed maintains direct eye contact. “Yeah, doing that!”

He keeps doing _that-_ which is, taking Troy as far into his throat as he can and gently humming around him. Carefully watching his face for reactions doesn’t disappoint, especially when he starts slowly moving his head up and down while still humming.

Troy’s hands weakly grasp at his hair, seemingly giving up on exerting enough force to actually move him. “Abed, _Abed,_ I’m-” He hasn’t been getting very lucky with finishing sentences. This time, it’s because he cums before he can pull a coherent string of words together, gasping and shuddering so hard that Abed feels it before he sees or hears it.

He easily swallows, and drags his tongue up the length of Troy’s dick one last time while lifting his head away. They’re back in the position they were in when they first removed their clothes, with a key difference- Troy lolls against the mattress, as if he would sink right through it if not for its solidity, and his half-lidded gaze somehow seems even _more_ adoring than the wide-eyed expression he had before.

“That was awesome.” Troy’s voice, still slow and suggestive, runs through Abed’s ears and pulls his attention to his own unresolved arousal.

It gives him an idea. “Was?” He plants a hand down next to Troy’s head, and uses it to lower himself until their faces can almost touch. “I’m not done.”

Troy audibly gulps. “You’re not?”

“I’m not.” Once it’s been made clear that Abed is not, in fact, done, he closes their remaining distance to kiss Troy. This time, he takes it slow, enjoying the comfortable warmth between them instead of racing to build up heat. He kisses in a way that would never make it into a movie, because the audience has places to be and kissing scenes don’t take long to get awkward. He would still nominate it for every single award.

He’s careful. He waits for Troy to start making shallow thrusts against him before offering the same in kind, never escalating it any further until Troy does. Though they might have kissed like they have all the time in the world, they can’t actually keep it up forever. Not when they know about everything else they could be doing.

They know where this has been going from the beginning. Sparks eventually lead to fire, and sudden realisations of years of sexual tension eventually lead to someone getting fucked. So when Abed pulls himself up to grab lube from one of his drawers, Troy doesn’t look surprised.

“Is it flavoured?” He points at the bottle, surprisingly casually for someone who’s on his second round of arousal. “I’ve got some really good ideas for new flavours.”

Abed looks at the label. “Not this time. I’ll look into our options.” That’s said in his normal voice, but after opening the bottle, the smoothness of his possessive character returns. “You don’t want to wait much longer, do you?” The effect’s immediate. Troy’s eyelids flutter, and his posture relaxes.

“I don’t,” he admits, making no attempt to pretend he isn’t looking directly at Abed’s dick. “Could we just do it now? That’d be really cool.”

That _would_ be really cool, Abed agrees, though there’s much more important matters than talking. Kneeling in front of Troy, he leans forward to offer a better view of himself applying lube, in slow, lazy motions just to see Troy’s progression from excitement to impatience to desperation.

“Come on,” he’s saying after a few minutes, making a real and honest effort not to whine. “Do it already.”

“Do what?” Abed moves a little closer, settling between Troy’s thighs. “Say it.”

It’s almost too much for Troy. He’s nearly completely hard again, eyes closed and arms and legs shaking. He might start crying if Abed pushes him any further, but he manages to take a deep breath and pull himself together enough to speak. “Abed, fuck me! Please!” 

Abed taps Troy’s legs, and without hesitation, he lifts them to wrap around Abed’s waist. From there, Abed can quickly and smoothly push inside him, kissing his cheeks instead of his lips so he’s free to make all the noise he wants.

It’s a _lot_ of noise. Abed’s not even moving, and Troy already moans and yells as if he’s being railed to within an inch of his life. His eyes are still squeezed shut, but Abed thinks he might see a few tears escape.

“It’s okay,” he says in an attempt at being soothing, reaching out to guide Troy’s hands up to his shoulders. “We won’t start until you’re ready. But when you are…” He lets his voice slip back to its low, domineering register as he runs a confident hand over Troy’s abs. “I’ll _wreck_ you.”

Troy nearly chokes on air.

After a few moments of careful, measured breathing, he manages to calm himself, and opens his eyes to look up at Abed. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“For?”

“Damn it.” Troy looks like he wants to be mad. “Ready for you to fuck my ass? I mean, you’re already there, so you might as well-“

In one rapid movement, Abed pulls halfway out and shoves himself back in, sending shockwaves through Troy. His voice trails off into a squeak, and he grips Abed’s shoulders with enough force to pull him downward. 

Face to face again, Abed takes the opportunity to kiss him, then props himself back up. “You liked that,” he points out, almost struggling to maintain character. “What if I did this?” When he pulls out again, he’s slow but not _too_ slow, calculating his moves to build as much tension as possible. Troy’s fingers, digging into the backs of his shoulders, silently urge him on. (The rest of Troy isn’t so silent.)

Without any warning, he snaps his hips forward again, and shivers at the noises that it draws out of Troy. Abed’s heard him yelling and moaning and gasping for breath in almost every conceivable situation, but this feels special, like it’s something just for him.

Abed himself is mostly quiet, though he definitely feels and hears some heavy breathing once he’s gotten into a pattern of thrusting in and out. He’s still in control of his own mind, he knows he is, but Troy’s so _hot_ and tight and still grabbing him to pull him closer and stealing kisses whenever he can and fluttering eyelashes and deep dark eyes, bringing him further out of himself by the minute, and he _nearly_ loses it…

He doesn’t. He slows down, looks away, manages to keep his train of thought from an extremely ugly crash. Then he looks back to Troy, knowing he’ll see patience and acceptance even as he’s begging Abed to keep going.

Both of them are more careful with the pacing this time. It pays off. Troy still screams with satisfaction at every thrust, and as Abed fucks him, he feels that familiar heavy warmth building up, slowly and gently pushing any thoughts besides Troy to the background. After several minutes of scattered eye contact, he holds their gaze, wondering just how deep he could get if he dove in. Probably enough to get eaten by some bizarre sea monster that’s never seen the light of day.

With one last cry, Troy cums on both their stomachs, holding Abed even tighter than before. “I love you,” he whispers, still staring with so much tenderness that Abed can imagine it overflowing from his eyes and flooding the room. That’s strictly metaphorical- surprisingly enough, he’s not crying.

They could do this for a thousand years, and there wouldn’t be a moment better than this one. So Abed lets go, a single high-pitched moan making it out of his throat only to be muffled when he buries his face in Troy’s shoulder.

When he actually has some confidence in being able to move without going limp, he lazily turns his head towards Troy. He’s grinning back, features soft and relaxed. With one arm, he cuddles Abed closer. “I love you,” he says again.

Abed almost says it back.

He doesn’t, because this moment is already perfect.

Too perfect.

This has _all_ been too perfect.

He tears himself away from Troy’s arms, and before he can hear any questions, speaks clearly in a voice that fills the room. “Render Dreamatorium.”

The scenery of their blanket fort dissolves, cut to pieces by the lines covering the Dreamatorium’s walls. Their bed shifts into a motley collection of blankets and pillows, laid out in a rough bed-like formation.

Even as he fades away, Troy still smiles at him. Then, just a second after everything else, he’s gone too.

Nothing replaces him. Abed lays on his back, looking up at an empty room.

The simulation had started realistically enough. They really weren’t supposed to be doing what they were doing, because Abed’s already learned that simulations aren’t the magic key to solving everything. Besides, if he and Troy ever did this for real, he wanted the first time to actually be the first.

That was before yesterday.

“I think I might actually ask her out,” Troy had confessed, hands nervously twisting together as they sat on the bed. “You’re okay with that, right? We’ll still hang out all the time, you don’t have to worry about-“

“Yeah. It’s fine.” Abed had smiled, and offered a few choice comments on Britta’s attractiveness. Troy had playfully told him to _watch it, man, that’s my almost-girlfriend,_ and they both laughed and did their handshake.

He knows he did the right thing. Because if he had objected, forced Troy to choose between him and Britta… he doesn’t know what would have happened. He doesn’t think he wants to.

This is what he did instead. A compromise. Troy can do what he wants, and Abed can know, just for a short while, what it might have been like.

That was the plan. But when he looks back, he finds himself shaking his head. His director’s eye gets drawn to every inaccuracy, from minor dialogue inconsistencies, to his unrealistically enhanced ability to understand facial expressions, to the complete absence of several critical components of safe sex.

None of that’s the worst part. The worst part is _Troy._ Abed didn’t write a script for this, but he still cast Troy in a particular role- someone who didn’t change, didn’t say no, didn’t get in the way of what Abed wanted. What had Troy wanted? The only thing he had been _allowed_ to want.

Something painfully lodges itself in his throat, hot enough to burn the sensitive inner lining. He hasn’t swallowed anything, so it’s probably shame.

He tells himself that this won’t happen again. That it doesn’t have to mean anything. That when he next sees Troy, he’ll be genuinely happy for him, and this big ball of shame inside him won’t hurt at all.

It occurs to him that he should go to the bathroom. He needs a long shower, and according to Jeff, that’s where he’s supposed to be if he’s going to lie to himself.

After a quick glance at his digital watch, he gets up and leaves the room, not stopping to pick up his clothes. It’s not like it matters- no one will be home for hours.

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
